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#fire the headcanons

ffxiv-swarm · 7 months

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prompt 29: contravention

I seek those who will stand against the Emperor, the Empire, and all it stands for.

Nobody had ever given him a speech. There had been no great moment where he’d looked up at the ragged, exhausted Resistance fighters and thought Yes, this is what I want to do, no great moment where he’d seen the Garleans and burned with hatred.

No, it had been quiet. Slow. The steady drip of water wearing away stone. It had been Kalju’s grim face, the despair of a shopkeeper’s widow as she’d told them how her husband had been killed in the street like a dog, the jarring black iron spikes against smooth golden stone, the way Garleans had ruffled his hair or smacked his hip or called him savage. Steadily as the water, Sigri had learned to hate.

While he’d been learning, Kalju had taught him what to do with it. And for eight years, he’d been Kalju’s best student. It had been easy. With the things he’d seen, the things he’d been through, it had been so easy. He’d been ready to kill—to die—if it took down the Garlean Empire. He’d been ready to personally slaughter every living soul who marched under the ivory standard. (That was, of course, presuming Garleans had souls. He was pretty sure they didn’t.)

Only...

Only in the end, he hadn’t had to. The Empire had destroyed itself, and he hadn’t been there.

“A knife made to cut throats can still chop onions.” One of the other Red Dawn members had told him that. At the time, he hadn’t been particularly appreciative.

He still wasn’t. Especially not when Penelo burst in with the morning paper and asked, “Did you read this yet? Look, there’s been a horrible monster attack in Garlemald, just like the ones in Dalmasca and Doma—”

His ears lifted. “Good. Maybe it will finally wipe them out.”

“Pavo!”

“What?”

And now she was glaring at him. “The soldiers are—the worst, and I hope they all take a flying leap into the Ridorana Cataract, but these people are just normal people! They don’t deserve to get eaten by horrible aether monsters!”

He blinked at her. “They’re Garlean. Of course they do.”

She opened her mouth. She closed her mouth. She made a furious air-strangling gesture, but since he was fully aware he could kill her if he had to he didn’t flinch.

Then she threw the paper down, snapped, “Just read it,” and flounced off.

Against his better judgement, he picked it up. The state of their former rulers’ homeland had made the front page. As he read it, he felt something like discomfort prickle in his chest. To not just be slain, but to have your aether completely dissipate, as though you’d never existed at all—to not even be able to rejoin the gods, because there was nothing left of you to rejoin—

Even if they were Garleans, he wasn’t sure anyone deserved that.

#pavo #fire the headcanons #viera #ffxivwrite2023

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necromelli · 4 months

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finnick getting off by watching your previous interview with caesar

MDNI 18+

Maybe it was because he missed your warmth, the way you'd clench around his cock, mewling out his name. He couldn't help it. Downright shameful and humiliating, but god, if you didn't look divine.

Finnick's hand wrapped around the base of his cock, one arm behind him on the bed. He exhaled, head falling back, eyes closing as his hand began to move. Slow at first, trying to draw it out. But, the moment you walked on stage, Finnick couldn't hold back. Not with the way your hips swayed as you walked, with the way you waved at the crowd, with the way you kissed Caesar's hand with a flirty smirk. You knew exactly what you were doing. Finnick groaned, biting his bottom lip to quiet himself so he could hear you talk.

"Well, no, as sweet as everyone is here, I've got a boy back home. He's really just perfect. Pretty hair, pretty dimples, sun kissed skin. I think you'd all would just die for him."

Damn you. It got him every time. Another quiet groan escaped Finnick, his thumb rubbing over the tip of his cock, mimicking the way you'd do it. If you already weren't sexy enough, the subtle way you claimed Finnick was enough to make him moan.

Finnick's rhythm was sloppy, desperate, and needy. If you weren't in the Capitol, he'd have fucked you right there. But, his hand would have to be enough for now.

"Caeser!" You exclaimed, and Finnick pretended it was his name you gasped out. "No, no, I won't tell who. A girl has to have her secrets, right?"

Finnick moaned loudly, head falling back as his hips canted up into his tight fist. You continued to answer questions; laughing softly on cue, adjusting yourself in your seat to show off more of your body to the vultures. He remembered seething despite the fact being a siren was his idea to earn you sponsors, but now, he had a guilty appreciation for it.

His soft moans were short, quick, and raspy. He was so close, hand pumping as quickly as he could. Sea green eyes watched you stand, holding your arms out to show the crowd your pretty sea-themed dress. In the direction of the camera, you bowed, the sweet curve of your breasts accentuated.

Finnick's hips stuttered, the fingers on the bed curling into the comforter. His fist closed around his tip, continuing to circle the swollen head of his cock. Within another second, he was moaning your name and cumming into his fist.

#the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #finnick odair #thg fanfiction #thg finnick #fanfic #finnick x reader #finnick x you #thg #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair headcanons #finnick odair x reader #finnick imagine #finnick odair x you #finnick odair smut

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dead-end-draws · 11 days

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WOF tribe Merchant/Trading booth concepts:

Hey folks! This one was the recent winner of this WOF poll, so here’s my concept art that headcannons trading in Pyyria.

Read below cut for close-ups of the individual booths + the thought process / headcannons behind the design choices: 👇

Skywings: The Sky Kingdom’s mountain ranges provide plenty of pasture for raising sheep. As such, Skywing shepherds benefit from traveling to sell their wool, dyes, fabric, and woven tapestries. Many of these merchant tables also include herbs grown exclusively in the mountains, or ibex drinking horns that can be strapped on a dragon’s shoulder & carried in flight.

Along with goods, Skywing merchants may offer sewing services to fix tears, burn marks, or other fabric damage. They are sought out for their quality clothing, and most fabric across Pyyria originated from a Skywing’s talons.

Mudwings: Mudwings’ abundant food & cooking skills are envied almost anywhere in Pyrria. Their swamps have fertile soil, responsible for hosting diverse crops which can be purchased as produce at merchant stalls. For those lucky enough to find a traveling Mudwing merchant, the promise of a delicious dish can be whipped up and served at the stall in no time. Along with produce goods, Mudwings sell weaved baskets, spices, and cooking ware.

Sandwings: Sandwing booths offer luxuries of the desert: It’s most common to find accessories such as gold carved jewelry or musical instruments such as drums, lyres, & mandolins for sale. Though, even more sought out across Pyrria is Sandwing tattoos/piercings, which are done within the merchant areas. Ink etchings on papyrus paper are stationed outside their tents to showcase designs. All which can be selected, and poked into the skin with a tapping stick and plant dye ink by a trained talon.

Seawings: SeaWings sell a variety of ocean related goods; taking a share in the fish market with Icewings. Outside of food, there are den decorations like driftwood carvings, accessories such as seashell & pearl jewelry, and rope nets weaved by expert Seawing sailors. Some Seawings even sell fishing equipment, canoes, or offer sailor knot tying instructions to curious dragon buyers.

Nightwings: During the war, it was near impossible to find a Nightwing merchant. Most refused to participate in merchant territory, mostly as a way to keep up with their tribe’s mysterious nature.

Though in the more shady, unground parts of the market you can buy from a huge selection of obsidian weaponry, the sharpest in Pyyria. No one knew initially how Nightwings smithed so many weapons, or why, until their secret volcano kingdom and the intention to invade the rainforest was discovered. Then forging armor & weapons became clear. Along with a vast armory, for the right price, some Nightwing merchants offer Prophecies & Nightwing Literature (not always guaranteed to always be reliable) and assassin services as well (very reliable).

Rainwings: Though Rainwings haven’t been part of Pyyria’s trading for years, they have a vast hold on dragon medicine. An apothecary of herbs, salves, and remedies are all offered for various ailments due to the rainforest’s abundant resources. Along with medicinal goods, many Rainwings are fruit vendors, promising to any hesitant meat-eating dragons that such an array of flavors isn’t to be missed. Though, their fruit selling pitches often fall flat to most other predominantly meat-eating tribes.

Icewings: Icewings have everything a dragon could need to brace the cold, with a selection of goods only found in the most frigid regions of Pyyria. Furs, bone jewelry, and fresh fish (thanks to frost breath) are served on ice. Though Icewings themselves don’t require fur to withstand the cold, it’s considered fashionable and common in upper ranks to wear fur as a status symbol. Since metal is hard to smith without fire & in cold temperatures, fur and bone are more accessible to Icewings for clothing statements.

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captainkirkk · 1 year

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Concept: Fire Lords traditionally dress like the stages of the sun to match their reign.

When Zuko is first crowned, he dresses in the colours of dawn. Bright yellows and pinks and even purples. He starts to wear more traditional crimson-and-gold robes after a few years, the colours of midday when Agni is at his strongest. And towards the end of his reign, when he's getting ready to pass the crown onto Izumi, he starts dressing like the setting sun.

#i haven't been able to stop thinking about this for DAYS please free me #avatar #atla #i imagine this was something that went out of style with sozin's era #because fire lords refused to wear anything but the colours of midday #because they believed that was the only way to signify that they are strong #anyway i'm just losing my mind at teenage fire lord zuko dressed like the rising sun #my posts #atla headcanons #au ideas

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otiksimr · 4 months

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Morrowseer

Nightwings tend to mimic the sky they were born under. That being said most nightwings born on the volcano are a mix of red or gray and tend to be completely starless or even 'foggy' due to the constant smoke.

That being said, nightwings who venture outside of the volcano tend to start develop silver scales, though they'd almost never come to have as many as a nightwing who had been born under a regular night sky.

#my art #my design #headcanon #YOU WILL SEE THEM.#GOD FORBID I PUT MY WRITTING UNDER A 'READMORE'#wof #wings of fire #wof fanart #wof nightwing #nightwing #wof morrowseer #morrowseer #dragon #dragon art #art #artwork #digital art

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chrollohearttags · 2 months

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ace loves more than anything to tease his girl! Sure, he plays the occasional prank or pokes fun at the way you eat. Even throwing around a silly nickname here or there..

but nothing brings him more satisfaction than watching you writhe and squirm on top of him. A firm hand clutching the back of your neck to keep you in place against his chest. Meanwhile, your legs are slightly parted as he pushes that toy in and out of your little cunt..it’s practically sucking it in. That silicone dildo marked with a different color at each inch to show how far you can take it. And at the moment, you’re just not meeting his standards.

“Babyyyy..please..”

“Unt uh..not yet, pretty girl..you’ll get mine when you can handle all of this.”

a promise he intended to keep. As it stood, you couldn’t even fit it to the halfway point without you coming undone. Cream and slick coating the tip and part of its shaft. Trust, he wishes it were him..wish that he could grip your asscheeks in his hands and bounce you up and down on his cock right now. Wishing he could make you come until those pretty little eyes rolled back…that he could fill it up with every last remnant of but he had to offer. But he’s got the patience of a saint. He doesn’t mind playing the long game so long as he got what he wanted in the end. So he’ll continue working that little pussy over..stroking at the same pace he would if it were him inside of you. Taking some out only to shove it back in gently. Listening to the pop and squelch of your tight walls constricting around it. “Look how fucking tight you are, babe..you’re barely opening up.” The tent in his pants is only growing larger but he can’t cave just yet. Not when he’s got you nearly trained to his liking. Finally meeting the thrusts of that fake thing..he’s confident you’ll have no problem taking that dick once he decides to give it to you! But for now, he’s enjoying this view. Watching you rut yourself against his thigh as he keeps pushing it in and out. Your nails clawing at his chest whilst his lips softly press to your temple. You’re growing anxious, getting restless and even start pawing at his obvious hard on. But he’s equally quick to swat your hand away. It’s not the right time in his opinion.

“..I know you’re getting impatient, gorgeous. But trust me, you’ll be glad I made you wait for it.”

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clobertina · 1 month

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I’ve grown out of Wings of Fire but I still love it

These are some old SeaWing headcanons I had

Tsunami:

Riptide:

Turtle:

Orca:

#wof #wings of fire #headcanons #headcanon design #seawing

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teethwitheyes101-blog · 6 days

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Here’s what I think growing up in a dark cave and only having river water would do to tsunami :)

Ik that technically none of this would make sense in real life, and this type of evolution would only take place after a long time BUT A GIRL CAN DREAM OK.

Just some headcannons that I think would make her more diff and interesting

#wof #wings of fire #art #wof art #digital art #dragons #dragon #wof tsunami #tsunami wof #seawing #wof seawing #wof hc #headcanons wof #wof headcanons #wings of fire headcannons

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ffxiv-swarm · 8 months

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prompt 4: Off the Hook

Supplying Imperial rebellions? Fine. Great. He had no problem with that, especially when they were paying him. And even if they weren’t, sometimes it was worth the dent in his coffers to shoot a few Garleans in the face, the slaving bastards that they were. But then other times, the folks running the rebellions started to actually notice how good he was at the aforementioned shooting, and they started delivering suggestions that sounded a lot like orders.

That, Jaiyu of the Malaguld did have a problem with.

At the moment, he was standing in what had once been a temple in the middle of Nagxia and was now a Resistance base hidden by the jungle and enthusiastic applications of glamour, and he was starting to question whether one of those problems was about to rear its head again. He was a busy man. He had bills to pay, cargo to ferry. Being bogged down for a year or more sniping Garlics was not his idea of a good time. The Tormorjargal was a fine airship, but it couldn’t hold up against the Garlean air force for long, and if he lost her...

He grimaced, tail switching back and forth as he remembered being grounded. Being stuck chasing after sheep or horses or his handful of nieces and nephews, dealing with a family that, by and large, truly couldn’t understand why he’d want to be up in the air instead of down on the ground with the rest of them. Even those who ran off to be adventurers generally stuck to horseback, riding the beasts that their tribe was known for. But he’d seen birds flying overhead and wanted to join them long before he’d ever seen his first airship, and now that he had, it was both yurt and horse to him.

And these fucking Nagxians probably wanted to commandeer it.

The leader—a fierce-eyed young woman he thought he’d probably get along with if she wasn’t in charge—was just finishing up an address to her generals when he bothered to tune back in. “Now that that’s settled—Chau Bui, take your detachment and go shore up our lookout posts. Yanli, good job with our supply stations, keep it up. Kotori, I want you and your men to scout the IVth’s Legion’s last outpost, see if you can figure out where they’ve gone. An entire Garlean encampment doesn’t just vanish. And you, Jaiyu—”

There it was. He tried not to groan. “Yeah, A-Nhi?”

She flashed him a grin. “You do great work. Mind carrying some messages from us to Doma if you’re heading back that way?”

For the first time in an hour, his shoulders relaxed. Thank the gods, he wouldn’t be politely press-ganged this time. “Oh, no problem! I’ll get right on loadin’ up whatever you’ve got for me, ma’am.”

Freedom.

He trotted off, humming a cheerful tune, before A-Nhi could change her mind.

#jaiyu #fire the headcanons #ffxivwrite2023

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necromelli · 4 months

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you wore southern!finnick's cowboy hat and he teaches you what that means

mdni 18+

warnings: literally just pure smut. p in v, creampie, finnick eating you out after, brief mention of alcohol, nothing too crazy, porn without plot tbh

how did you get here? all you remembered was slamming back a few shots at your father's bar, flirting with the cute dimpled boy whose eyes lit up like lightning bugs when you took his cowboy hat and danced around with it. now, you were on top of him, bucking your hips.

"i tell you how good you looked with my hat?" finnick groaned, his fingers holding tightly to the plush on your hips, pushing up into. "awfully pretty, baby."

you moaned, his hat slipping down to cover your face. his cock was buried deep, stretching your walls deliciously. your eyes fluttered shut when he grazed that sweet spot inside of you, his name on your breath. "finnick..."

"baby," finnick tutted, one hand leaving your hips to tilt his hat up. with it fixed and your pretty face back on display, finnick sighed and stroked your cheek. "y' feel so good. so warm and soft."

you clenched around him, which caused finnick to laugh around a moan. he hummed when your hands landed on his chest for extra support, your movements becoming unsteady. being the gentleman he was, finnick wrapped an arm around your waist and thrusts up into you. the way you fell apart almost instantly had his cock twitching.

"best pussy i've ever had," and, in your cock drunk state, you weren't going to argue. "i'd let you wear my hat anytime you want, pretty girl."

you cried out, walls spasming and clenching around finnick's cock, not letting him pull out as you came. finnick chuckled, kissing your pretty lips as he sloppily thrusted into you a few more times. then, his dick twitched, filling you up with his warm cum.

"you did so good," finnick cooed, laying you back on the bed. he loomed over you, sea-green eyes raking over your naked body. then he did the unbelievable. he positioned himself between your legs, kissing up your legs until he got to your folds. he smirked when you shuddered, tongue dipping between your folds. "gonna clean you up as thanks, sweetheart."

#the hunger games #finnick odair #catching fire #mockingjay #thg fanfiction #thg finnick #finnick x reader #finnick x you #fanfic #thg #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair headcanons #finnick odair x reader #finnick imagine #finnick odair smut

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lucy-gray1075 · 4 months

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finnick odair who braids your hair after a long day at the beach. finnick odair who loves taking showers or baths with you, really anything that involves water and you is heaven to him. finnick odair who wants you to "just sit pretty like the princess you are" while he does all the chores. finnick odair who teaches you how to surf and then carries you home on his back when you get tired. finnick odair who is so protective of you it makes your heart hurt. finnick odair who is a terrible chef but insists on cooking for you anyways because his "pretty princess needs to relax." finnick odair who surprises you with jewelry he made himself from little seashells he collected at the beach. finnick odair who gives you baby fever when he teaches the local children how to fish.

#the hunger games #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick x y/n #finnick odair fanfic #thg finnick #finnick x you #finnick imagine #finnick odair x you #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair headcanons #hunger games catching fire #finnick odair fanfiction #finnick odair drabbles #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair x y/n

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willowbelle · 2 months

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Open Flame

❤︎ portgas d ace x fem reader ❤︎

༉‧₊˚✧ (nsfw, afab!reader, 18+ only) ༉‧₊˚✧

cw: afab!reader, fem!reader, dom!ace, sub!reader, ace is a smug tease, kitchen sex, fingering, piv sex, bent-over-the-counter sex, cream pie, use of "good girl" , "baby" & "sweetheart"

summary: reader is a strawhat, reader has a crush on ace (don't we all?) they're the only ones up late at night in the kitchen >:), sex ensues, heat/flame innuendos duh, oh and Ace wears those slutty man plaid boxers (>ᴗ•) !

word count: ~4,000

tagging: @bby-deerling @maddddstuff @eelnoise @nerdgeekandeverysweet-blog @help-i-lost-my-sock

Open Flame

Ace’s gaze was allconsuming.

A spell-binding stare that, ironically, lit a flame within you that couldn’t be tamed.

Your captain’s brother was only supposed to have stayed with you all on The Sunny for a few days, but, before long, days melted into weeks, and Ace had effortlessly ingrained himself, finding a home not just within the confines of the ship, but also within the recesses of your mind.

Ever since his first day with your crew, you found yourself tossing and turning in bed at night, consumed by visions of Fire Fist Ace; his toned figure, his freckled skin, his dark, shaggy hair.

Each toss and turn was a desperate attempt to escape the relentless grip of your infatuation, but his image persisted, vivid and unyielding.

Oh, it was futile. The more you tried to push him from your thoughts, the more he consumed them. His presence lingered, something intoxicating, relentless, enveloping you in a haze of longing and allconsuming desire.

------

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to find solace in sleep, but your mind races on, conjuring fantasies of those stolen glances, those tan, freckled cheeks. Each scenario plays out in intricate detail, taunting you with the tantalizing possibility of something more.

You release a weighted sigh, your gaze still fixed on the unchanging ceiling. Sleep feels impossible now, so you give in to your insomnia, gently shedding the covers from your body and rising upright.

------

In the depths of the ship's night, you silently slip out of your bunk, navigating the narrow corridors with practiced ease. The Sunny creaks and groans softly around you, its familiar sounds a comforting backdrop to your nocturnal wanderings.

The floorboards creak faintly beneath your weight as you pad through the dimly lit hallway, guided only by the pale moonlight filtering through the fluttering curtains.

A gentle sea breeze whispers through the open window, carrying with it the scent of night blooms and sea salt. As you descend the stairs, your footsteps echo softly against the wooden steps, breaking the stillness of the night.

Entering the kitchen, you flick on the overhead light, casting a warm glow over the familiar surroundings. The room seems to welcome your presence, the comforting hum of the refrigerator and the soft ticking of the clock offering solace in the solitude of the night.

You move with quiet purpose, your movements fluid and unhurried as you prepare a cup of tea, the gentle clink of porcelain against porcelain punctuating the silence. The rhythmic motion of stirring soothes your restless mind, easing the knots of tension that had taken root within you.

As you stir the spoon through the steaming liquid, Ace's presence solidifies in your thoughts, his grip on your mind unyielding. There's no escaping his hold, so you allow him to take you, drifting deeper into your imagination. You envision the sensation of drawing him near, tasting his lips, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. The thought lingers: would his abilities render his flesh hot to the touch?

Lost in your daydreaming, your senses are momentarily dulled. The rhythmic stirring of your tea slows as you continue to drift in the cocoon of your thoughts, imagining scenarios that seem both tantalizingly real and impossibly distant.

Ace’s lips on your neck, his strong hands around your waist, melting you.

And then, like a sudden gust of something unexpected, the sound of footsteps shatters the tranquility of your fantasies. Your heart skips a beat as you raise your head, finding yourself face to face with the object of your affection.

Ace stands in the doorway, his presence filling the room with an intensity that leaves you breathless.

He has’t noticed me, yet, thank god.

Unaware of your presence, he remains oblivious, his attention consumed by the remnants of sleep lingering in his eyes. With a lazy yawn and a gentle rub of his eyes, he remains lost in the haze between wakefulness and sleep.

He stands before you, casually shirtless, as he usually is, yet there's something distinctly different about this moment. His chest is bare and his torso is exposed, the warm light of the kitchen accentuating the contours of his chest and the play of shadows across his skin.

Beneath the soft glow, his feet are bare, too, adding to the casual allure of his presence. The only garment adorning him is a pair of loose-fitting red plaid boxers, hanging effortlessly from his sculpted hips

The warm glow of the kitchen lights cascades softly over Ace's toned body, each gentle beam of light dances delicately across his features, accentuating the subtle contours of his handsome, freckled face. As he steps further into the room, the light caresses his golden skin, highlighting the delicate sprinkling of freckles that adorn his cheeks and nose, a testament to the countless hours spent basking in the sun's embrace.

And suddenly, to your dismay, his eyes, dark and enigmatic, lock onto yours, and for a fleeting instant, time seems to stand still.

A weary grin creeps onto his face as he senses comfort in your company.

"Trouble sleeping, too?" the timbre of his voice is soft and raspy, colored by the remnants of sleep. As he speaks, he ambles towards the fridge, effortlessly navigating the kitchen space. With a fluid motion, he swings the refrigerator door open, stealing a quick glance in your direction as he begins to sift through its contents, awaiting your response.

“Uh, yeah,” you chuckle softly, stumbling over your words. Surely, you were dreaming. You rub your eyes a few times to dispel the remnants of sleep, however, when you open them again, Ace is still there.

"The waves seem rougher tonight, huh?" Ace mumbles between mouthfuls of food, his attention divided between his meal and the remaining contents of the fridge.

“They do, yeah,” you offer a soft smile, “But I can rarely get to sleep,” you admit, taking a sip from your mug of tea.

"Oh, really?" Ace's inquiry pulls your attention away from your tea, his sudden gaze meeting yours as he lifts his head from the fridge for the first time. “Why’s that?”

A rush of heat floods your cheeks at the direct eye contact, prompting you to avert your gaze momentarily.

"Just... can't stop thinking," you admit softly, your voice trailing off as you struggle to find the right words.

"Hmm," Ace acknowledges with a thoughtful hum before swallowing. "Same here," he adds, his tone carrying a hint of vulnerability.

Your curiosity piqued, you lean in slightly, intrigued by his response. "What's been on your mind, Ace?" you ask, voice laced with genuine interest.

Ace hesitates for a moment, glancing around the kitchen before shrugging nonchalantly,

"You.”

Ace's unexpected confession courses through your veins and renders you speechless. Your heart flutters erratically in your chest, and you struggle to maintain composure under the weight of his words that hang heavily between the two of you.

It was disarmingly casual, refreshingly honest. Not a rehearsed performance, starkly contrasting the countless nights you spent rehearsing confessions in front of the mirror. You can;t help but envy his effortless sincerity.

His gaze remains fixed on yours, unwavering and intense as he straightens up, closing the fridge.

He slowly makes his way towards you, making your breath hitch in your throat. You swallow dryly as he draws near, and with a gentle yet purposeful motion, he reaches out and takes the mug of tea from your hand, the brief touch sending a shiver down your spine. Setting the drink down on the counter with a soft clink, he closes the space between you, the air crackling with unspoken tension.

You feel his breath on your ear as his presence looms closer,

“What have you been thinking about, y/n?” he questions, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

You suck in your bottom lip gently between your teeth, a nervous habit betraying the whirlwind of emotions churning within you. Your gaze locks with his, his eyes like pools inviting you take a swim.

And so, you dive in.

Time seems to stand still as you hover on the brink of uncertainty, the weight of your unspoken emotions hanging heavy in the air. And then, with a soft exhale, you opt for a physical reply, immediately closing the gap, crashing your lips onto Ace’s.

His hand instinctively finds its home on your soft cheek as your lips meld together, making you moan softly into his mouth.

His lips turn up into a smile against yours, pleased with the sound that escaped your throat.

It's a moment suspended in time, a delicate dance of longing and hesitation as you explore the uncharted territory of your newfound embrace. Your lips move together in perfect harmony, each brush of skin igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you whole.

Your surroundings seem to fall away as you make out, gently caressing Ace’s sharp jawline as his tongue presses against your lips, silently asking for permission to enter.

You promptly oblige, parting your lips to allow Ace’s hot tongue to explore your mouth.

He accepts, groaning softly into your open mouth as his tongue swirls around yours slowly.

He presses forwards softly, palms resting on the countertop on either side of your hips, caging you in as he leans harder into the kiss.

You hands travel upwards, tangling themselves in his mess of dark hair as you gently bite his bottom lip, playfully tugging on the tender flesh between your teeth.

“Ace,” you whine breathlessly.

“Yeah?” the tall man rasps into your mouth, eyes still closed in a blissful surrender, “Tell me what you need, sweetheart.”

Your heart swells at his affectionate words and you playfully parrot his statement from before,

“You.”

"That's it," he murmurs, his voice soft yet brimming with confidence. "That's what I wanted to hear."

You feel your core tighten at his boldness, making heat pool in your crotch.

As if he could read your body like a book, he slowly begins to snake his toned arm downwards, his hand finding its home on your aching sex.

Your head rolls back and you let out a pleased sigh at the sensation.

“Sensitive, are we?” Ace purrs arrogantly, pleased at his own ability.

“Mm-mhmm,” you whine in admission because he’s right, he tugs those sounds from your body naturally, better than anyone ever has.

His able fingers cautiously meet the waistband of your pajama shorts and he shoots you a questioning glance, silently asking for your permission.

“Please, Ace,” you whine.

He smirks at you before dipping his hand beneath your shorts, his middle and ring finger aiming to tease your weeping opening.

“Needy girl,” he lets out a gravelly groan, “So wet for me already.”

A dark blush rushes to your cheeks at the lewdness of his words, but he cups your face and tilts your head down, making you watch the meticulous movements of his fingers.

His other hand swiftly snakes around to give your ass a gentle squeeze before dipping his thumb beneath your waistband to tug your shorts down.

Simultaneously, he swipes his middle finger along your aching slit, the tip of his finger meeting your hole with a precautionary nudge.

“Mm,” you whine out, excitedly awaiting the intrusion.

“Yeah?” Ace tests you, stalling his movements, “Come on, baby, show me how badly you want it.”

Abandoning all dignity, you let your yearnings take the reigns, grinding your hips back and forth against him, soaking his digit in your essence.

“Good,” Ace mumbles, rewarding your persistence with a press of his finger against your opening. Your cunt greedily accepts his digit, sucking him in. “So tight, y/n, can’t wait to stretch you out,” the man before you smirks and you want to hide your embarrassed face, but you’re too consumed by desire, unable to fall back on your shy tendencies.

He slowly begins pumping his finger in and out of you, earning delicious moans to escape from your slack jaw and into his ear.

You bury your face in his neck, his skin radiating heat and carrying the unmistakable scent of fire. It's primal and potent, a blend of burning wood, scorched earth, and smoldering embers. As you inhale deeply, you detect hints of charred debris and smoke clinging to him, a haunting reminder of his fire's destructive power. Yet, there's also an allure to the scent, a sense of safety, evoking memories of his warm flames flickering in the darkness. It's a scent that commands your attention, stirring your senses with its primal energy and leaving an indelible mark, much like the landscape long after the flames have been extinguished.

You’re a mess beneath his touch, biting onto the muscular flesh of his freckled shoulders, whimpering into his ear. He adds another finger, making you cry out at the intrusion earning a palm to your mouth. He works the two digits in and out of you with deliberate precision, hitting your sweet-spot perfectly with each pass.

You start to see stars as Ace’s thumb meets your aching clit, treating the swollen nub with tight circles.

The ever-tightening coil growing within your stomach reaches its peak, threatening to snap as Ace continues his dirty work.

But, before your pleasure can boil over, Ace pulls away, removing his soaking fingers from your needy cunt.

You’re trembling, weakly holding onto Ace’s muscular forearm to steady yourself as you whine,

“Aceee, w-why’d you stoppp?” your voice is desperate, nearly embarrassingly so, but you’ve long abandoned all your dignity, you just want him to keep pleasing you.

“Turn around,” the man before you shoots you a wolfish grin, “I promise I’ll make it worth it.”

The mere idea of passing up whatever Ace is offering fills you with trepidation, so without hesitation, you comply, swiftly turning yourself around and placing your hands on the countertop.

You glance back at the tall man behind you, finding him sporting a smug smirk, dark eyes lidded as he gazes down at you, clearly amused by your immediate obedience.

Ace’s strong, hot hands meet your hips, griping the flesh tightly as he brings his clothed crotch to lie flush with your bare ass.

His skin is seeping heat through his boxers, and the sensation causes you to mewl out, goosebumps budding all over your impatient skin.

He wastes no time as he’s no better, impatient, too, immediately beginning to grind his aching cock against the flesh of your ass. A hearty moan brews in his chest and escapes from his throat, causing a dark blush to dance across your cheeks. You stare down at your fingers gripping the countertop, knuckles growing white against the granite as Ace has his way with you.

“Fuck,” he leans forward, his bare chest lying flush with your back as he groans in your ear, “You ready for me, baby?” he nips at your ear.

You roll your hips in response, pressing your ass harder against his erection to accentuate your whiny plea, “Please, Ace.”

You feel his lips tug into a smirk against your ear, “Say no more, y/n.”

In an instant, Ace’s plaid boxers meet the kitchen floor, earning a small gasp from you as you watch the fabric pool at his feet.

Placing one warm palm on the small of your back he uses the other to grip his long, pulsing cock, lining himself up with your weeping entrance.

Ace grits his teeth as he begins to push his tip inside you, sucking in a shaky breath through his grin as he feels your tight hole opening up for him.

“Mmm,” you whine out, “Aceee-”

Your fingertips make a pathetic attempt to dig into the impenetrable granite as Ace pushes himself inside you.

The stretch is evident, nearly painful, but you endure it, for the reward of having Ace fuck you is beyond worth it.

His fingertips meet the dip of your waistline with a comforting squeeze as he continues to press forwards, his voice filled with genuine concern, "You're alright, baby?" he asks tenderly.

“Mm-mhm,” you whine, pressing your hips back eagerly, “More, please-”

“So desperate for me,” Ace groans through gritted teeth, but he rewards your desperation, gripping your waist tightly as he thrusts himself inside you fully, bottoming out,.

“Fuck, Ace!” you cry out, loudly at the feeling of Ace’s lengthy cock suddenly filling your insides. You feel stuffed, letting your mouth hang slack and your eyes screw shut as stars erupt beneath your lids.

At the sudden sound of your loud moans, Ace’s hand immediately shoots forwards, palm covering your mouth tightly and pressing in firmly to punctuate his point.

Ace’s palm against your mouth makes you realize how loud you just were, and although a surge of longing and desire courses through your veins, beneath the surface, a thread of caution lingers. You are acutely aware of your surroundings, the faint sounds of the ship humming around you, the distant creak of floorboards echoing in the corridor beyond. The two of you are an open flame, and the threat of one of your crewmates walking in tickles at your mind, but is far overpowered by the desire for Ace to rail you.

“Stay quiet for me, yeah, baby?” Ace groans, his voice a gravelly, promising whisper, “and I'll give ‘ya everything you want.”

“M-Mhmm,” you nod your head frantically, willing to promise anything if it means he’ll keep going.

Ace gives you a firm nod, pleased at your response, letting his hand fall from your mouth and find its way back on the other side of your waist.

His cock throbs inside your tight cunt, making you let out a pleased but quiet moan. The feeling of your hot walls fluttering around his length makes Ace relinquish his control, steadying himself before pulling his hips back and thrusting back into you.

Your moans threaten to escape loudly, and as much as you want to let it out, you keep them at bay, obeying Ace’s silent order. You tremble beneath him, only allowing a soft, weak moan to erupt from your heaving chest.

Soon enough, he develops a steady pace, thrusting in and out of you rhythmically, stuffing you full, his blunt tip kissing your g-spot with each pass, making your body melt beneath him.

He’s strategic, reaching around to rub tight circles into your clit as he fucks you from behind, keeping you bent over the kitcher counter.

The man behind you is hot to the touch; his skin, his cock, all of him is hot, a stark contrast to the cold granite that rubs against your tits and open palms as he fucks you.

Ace is huffing behind you, eyes screwed shut as he picks up the pace, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping together dismissing the nighttime silence that hung in the kitchen earlier.

“Fuck, y/n,” he groans, letting his head fall back. His pace increases, becoming more brutal and a bit sloppy as he chases his orgasm.

One of his hands makes its way upwards to tangle itself in your hair, lacing his fingers in the strands and tugging on them, pulling your head back to make you look at him.

He looks beautiful like this, thrusting into you from behind, freckled face and shoulders tinted red, dark, shaggy hair clinging to his forehead with his sweat, toned chest heaving up and down.

“Y/n,” he rasps breathlessly, eyes lidded as he stares down at you lustfully, “I-I’m so close-”

The circles he’s rubbing into your clit become tighter, more frantic, his thrusts gaining more power but becoming unsynchronized as he desperately chases his rapidly-approaching orgasm.

You’re no better, weakly clawing at the countertop as your legs tremble, threatening to give out from under you as Ace continues to pound his length into you. He’s bullying your cervix, overstimulating your sore clit, wildly pulling you towards your own peak.

“Sh-Shit, A-Ace-!”

In an instant, it hits you; white-hot pleasure, coursing through your veins, making your limbs grow tingly and numb, your knees buckling as they give out beneath you. You’re a trembling mess, gushing onto Ace’s cock as your orgasm reaches its crown, crashing into you with unwavering intensity.

Ace is right behind you, granting your spent body with a few more weak thrusts before he pushes himself in fully one last time, tip meeting your cervix with a harsh bump before he erupts inside you.

----

The soft tendrils of morning light filter through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the your bedroom as you stir from your slumber. Blinking sleepily, you rub your eyes, a lingering sense of disorientation clouding your thoughts.

I’m in bed. Did Ace bring me here?

The events of the previous night flood your mind, and you can't help but wonder if it was all just a dream. The memory of your clandestine encounter in the kitchen feels like a distant echo, shrouded in uncertainty and disbelief.

With a sigh, you sit up, the sheets pooling around your waist as you wrestle with the conflicting memories swirling within you. Part of you yearns to believe that it was real, that the tender moments shared between you and Ace were more than just figments of your imagination.

Doubt gnaws at the edges of your consciousness, whispering tales of wishful thinking and misplaced desire.

But the fresh love bites on your neck and soreness of your cunt must prove otherwise, right?

Lost in your thoughts, you slip out of bed and pad across the room, the cool floor beneath your feet grounding you in the present. With hesitant steps, you make your way to the kitchen, heart pounding in anticipation.

As you enter the familiar space, you let out a deep breath, scanning the room for any sign of Fire Fist Ace. But, to your dismay, the kitchen stands empty, the only remnants of your encounter being the lingering scent of tea and a damp kitchen towel.

And then, his voice cuts through the silence like a hot knife on ice,

“How’d you sleep, beautiful?”

You turn, and there, leaning casually against the kitchen counter, is Ace, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that steals your breath away. The sight of him, so real and tangible, dispels the lingering doubts that had clouded your mind.

He grins widely, warmly, a sight that floods your veins with a familiar sensation of heat and joy.

“Hope I didn’t rough you up too much, pretty girl.”

With the reassurance of his words, elation and relief climb up your spine and cling to your skin.

You make your way towards Ace, planting a passionate kiss on his lips before gazing up into his eyes,

“Thanks for tucking me in, Ace,” you blush softly.

The freckled man chuckles,

“Anytime.”